


Better Than I Was

by AStoneTown



Category: Ashes to Ashes (UK TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStoneTown/pseuds/AStoneTown
Summary: He wasn't sure what he would give up for her, or what he'd do for her either. He was sure that he'd do whatever he could to heal her. - Another alternate look into the finale.





	Better Than I Was

**Author's Note:**

> There was a line that they didn’t use in the final episode that, after reading episode 8 script, I loved… and knew that I needed to write a story about it (basically Gene tells Alex that she made him better than he was, which was...sweet, so of course they didn't use it). It escalated slightly, got a little smutty in the middle and a lot fluffy in the end.

** Better Than I Was **

* * *

 

The world was splintering. The future was uncertain. When Ray, Chris and Shaz walked out with Jim, Alex could feel the unease beneath her feet. It was all down to Gene. His world was built on his need to protect, help and serve. What a brave young man he was, that his demise broke his heart not for himself – but for the work he could not start, let alone finish.

She sat next to him, the battered man who seemed to give up… sat closer than she would’ve allowed herself days before. Mirroring his pose, resting her head against the cabinet next to him, she let out a little sigh.

“If…If I’d never come here…” she started, knowing she had his attention by the barest twitch of his body, “You might have carried on like this forever. And Keats…” she trailed off, scrunching her eyes closed. That man couldn’t be her way home, not when Gene Hunt existed.

“Keats came because of you,” he broke through her thoughts. Still the same steady timbre she knew, even as he wiped the blood from his nose, “Because you were going to help me. He was drawn to that… he wanted to stop it.”

Alex snorted, a guilty weight resting on her chest, “Oh, great…” she sniffed, “so you’re saying it’s my fault.”

“No,” he said, a sharp tone before turning his head to look at her, their eyes meeting as she turned hers, “You made me… you made me better than I was.”

She had heard how Sam changed his life. How high a regard Gene held the man he lost, his best friend. There was a difference, so vast and strong that she couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“Gene…” she whispered. He didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes trained on her. He shook his head for a moment, before smiling at her. She smiled back at him. A delicate one as she waited for him to voice what he was thinking.

“You told me the truth,” he turned sombre, “that day I asked you and… you did. Sounded bloody crazy an’all, but everything you said you…”

“I had a few of the facts wrong but I trusted you,” she looked away from him, “I _trust_ you.”

He nodded again, looked away for a moment, “Yea’… trust. You trusted me. Let you down, Bolls.”

“No, Gene…”

“Alex,” he turned to look at her again, “what I said about your daughter… that was a line, I never should ‘ave crossed it.”

“I can’t blame you, Gene…” she briefly leant forward, her forehead touching his before pulling back, “I have given you a lot of ammunition of doubt.” She went to look away, but Gene brought one hand up to cup her chin, making sure she stayed looking at him. He moved towards her, moving her hand away, offering her a way out, before pressing his lips to hers.

It would be stupid to say that everything was building to this moment. That every argument, heated look, the gunshot, Jenette… that it brought them to finally be on the same page, equals in every sense in ways they couldn’t actually be before. But maybe it was. Maybe it was actually just as simple as what Ray said. _If you're smart, you'll learn that being where the guv is, is the right place to be._ He wasn’t wrong, even if he just had a slight lapse in judgement himself.

But kissing Gene Hunt wasn’t like how she expected. He was soft and sweet and she couldn’t stop the tears that stung behind her lids. These were the kisses of a young man, cut down before he had any chance in life. One of her hands brushed up to thread through his hair, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss. Of course, her mistake was taking the kiss to mean he was ignorant to the ways of seduction. He didn’t have to take her lead as their tongues met; it was more as though he was gaining permission. She couldn’t help a little meep of surprise trailing out as he growled and moved her forcefully to straddle him. She had to admit, in a fleeting thought that it made the kiss all that more sensual, before she was distracted by his tongue and hands that seemed to touch her everywhere at once.

“Gene,” she gasped out, his lips trailing down her face and neck, “oh god… uh, we have to…”

“Stop talking, Bolly? I couldn’t agree more,” he nipped at her neck and she knew a warning when she felt one. It was telling her that it was their last chance. She groaned at the feeling of his hands making their way under her jumper and strapped shirt. “Should go back to wearing them silk flimsy things.”

“Mm, yeah…” she pulled his head from her neck and kissed him hard before pulling back, “wait, why?”

“Easier access,” he flashed a cheeky grin and she smiled back. She could feel herself flushing from the thought of it and she did question her own fashion choices since the coma-within-a-coma. She could be thrown to 2008 in the same outfits and most people wouldn’t question it. She wondered what that meant…

“Well… after we finish this job,” she stopped and kissed his nose, a healing sort of kiss that was brimming with the unspoken intimacy between them, “you can take me shopping.”

She wondered why she said that… fighting her attraction to Gene Hunt, fighting the man himself and every other twisted reality of this world… and then finding out the truth…

“Alex…” he looked at her with an expression and the mood changed. As soon as she was sure they were about to grind to completion there on the squad room floor she threw herself off him. The deafening sound of truth crackled the air, as Gene let out a sigh.

Everything went quickly then. Alex kicked her shoes off and got to her feet, frantically looking for something so specific that Gene looked hopelessly on as he slowly stood. He knew the moment she saw it because she sat heavily on Ray’s desk, staring unseeingly at the object.

“Nine oh six…” she whispered, the clock ticked but the second hand didn’t move, a glitch in the matrix in this world Gene Hunt created, “that was the time in my hospital room…” she looked up at him and he slowly made his way towards her, removing the offending item and throwing it across the room, “that was the time I…”

“Shh, Alex,” he sat in the nearest chair and brought her with him. The mere fact she moved without complaint or any words said so much as she allowed herself to end up sitting across his lap, her head buried in his neck.

If Sam Tyler could see him now. But the Gene Hunt he was at that moment, comforting a heartbroken Alex Drake was every bit the product of Sam’s making, the unfinished product at that, which was moulded and altered by the very woman he held. He wasn’t sure what he would give up for her, or what he’d do for her either. He was sure that he’d do whatever he could to heal her.

* * *

“I should move,” she spoke after such a long time the beginnings of the sunrise peaked into the office.

“And here’s me just getting used to dead legs,” Gene joked in reply, keeping the one hand on her thighs the other on her waist, making it perfectly clear he did not want her to move. At all. Maybe ever.

“People will start coming in soon,” she brushed her nose against his chin before pressing a kiss to it, “think they’d have something to say seeing their Guv cuddling their DI.”

“Gene Hunt does not cuddle anyone,” he argued, half-heartedly, “besides… more likely get claps on the back having a woman like you in me lap than anything.” She snorted an unladylike reply before shaking her head.

“I… I really wanted to be there for her, Gene,” she let out a shuddering breath, “I fought so hard.”

“I know, I know,” he turned his head to look at her, “don’t have a crystal ball or anything but… little Alex Price turned out to be a fine woman, didn’t she? Made of stern stuff.”

“I guess…”

“Should apologise for that, an’all… having to see that again,” he squeezed her gently, “bloody ‘ell… ‘aven’t had the easiest go of it, ‘ave we?” And there they were again, equals in their sorrow. “Most of me life ‘appened after I died. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not fair, but then again… dying rarely is,” she held so much sympathy for that plucky teenager whose whole future was snuffed out in one shot. She ignored the parts of her that were happy that a man like Gene ended up in this world, she didn’t doubt he helped many people move on and she didn’t want to think of how her life here would’ve been like if he wasn’t at the centre. “Is Litton like you?”

“Aye, right old Saint Gabriel’s the both o’us,” he snorted, pressing his lips to her forehead in an act so similar to the night they danced Alex felt her eyes close, “not like that, Bolly… Derek ‘ad a lot of unfinished business when it came to policing, just like me. No angels in this world, at least none that will bother showing their faces.”

“Self-appointed keeper of coppers,” she decided to move then, although not fair, straddling Gene in a way so similar to his many fantasies he almost wanted to cry. He settled, instead for wincing as feeling slowly moved back into his thighs, “I can’t believe I found a man like you… after I…” her words caught in her throat. Knowing you were dead was one thing, saying it out loud? It cemented the reality she wasn’t ready to believe in yet.

“Yea’, well… think of me,” his eyes seemed to take in every inch of her face, his hands moving steadily up and down her thighs, “almost every relationship I’ve ‘ad ‘as been after I died… But you, Bolls? Yer somethin’ different altogether.”

“How?”

“Well… even in my wildest dreams, never thought yer’d be interested in me,” he looked away slightly bashful and Alex tilted her head watching it with a smile.

“I’ll remind you I was interested very early in our relationship,” she paused, “at least… aesthetically.”

“Can’t blame a man for not wanting to feel like a piece o’meat,” Gene looked back at her, humour in his expression as Alex laughed.

“Can I kiss you now?” she rolled her eyes as he seemed to debate her question, if it wasn’t for the hands moving from her thighs to her waist pulling her closer, she’d actually wonder if he was serious.

“I don’t know, Bolls, wha’ if someone walked in?” he said, referring to her earlier protests. Despite his words, Alex smiled and moved to press her lips to his. It was another sweet kiss, similar to that of a promise. “I think you should stay in me lap from now on.” He whispered against her lips, letting out a little groan as she moved suggestively in his lap.

“At this moment I can’t see anything wrong with that,” she murmured back, kissing him with more force this time. A thousand words wouldn’t be enough to convey everything he meant to her, not really… not when she was grieving and feeling free all in the same breath. Every moment she spent in this world was fighting to be with her daughter, whilst falling a little deeper every day. It was an exhausting battle she had with herself daily and despite the heartbreak and confusion, she could finally feel some sort of sad relief.

The kisses shared were growing more determined and the purpose in them was evident. After the night before, the failed seduction of two people who wanted nothing more than to be seduced if pride and suspicion weren’t in the way, they were on the right track. Alex allowed the pleasure of slowly grinding in his lap, groaning at the feel of the bulge pressing against her. She felt his hands move to grasp her head, pulling her from his lips.

“Keep this up and I’ll ‘ave an embarrassing situation on my ‘ands,” he let out a few harsh breaths.

“In your pants, at least.”

“Cheeky,” he started, allowing on hand to drop between them, slowly he cupped her through her thin leggings, grinning as she involuntarily ground against that, “don’ think you’d be far off it yerself.”

“We… oh _god_ …” she shook her head, trying to sort through her thoughts – fighting the pleasure that Gene was creating in her, “maybe we should… take this to your office…”

“Yea’,” he paused, “got something on my desk that needs doin’.” He slapped at her thighs and she stood, almost scuttling towards to the office, already making a swift move to close the blinds. Gene took the time to gather his bearings. He refused to think about what was coming, standing slowly and cursing his old body – not taking the time to even contemplate how the afterlife didn’t mean his joints didn’t stiffen up – and half-swaggered towards his office. He tried to remain cool, although he thought women like Alex Drake were always out of his reach.

He was a lover of blondes. Always had been, a young teenager starry eyed over Grace Kelly. There was always something softer, adaptable about blondes. Brunettes always made him cautious. He remembered the first girl he got some action with. She had pretty blue eyes and dark brown hair. He was sure he was in love the moment he met her, if he believed in any of that poofy airy fairy nonsense… but she did a number on him, confused the shit out of him and had moved onto someone different before he even calmed his racing heart.

Alex Drake was no different. If anything she was an accumulation of everything he feared in a woman, and everything he ever wanted. He was thrown from the moment he saw her, and he was more confused, in love and in hate than he ever had been with Sarah Miler down the road. Being on the same page as her was invigorating. He watched from the doorway as she removed her jacket, pulling her jumper over her head quickly after.  He wished he was alive for so long, that his life wasn’t snuffed from him… but then if he had been, he’d have never had this moment with her. That didn’t seem like living to him.

“Presumptuous, Bolls,” he said smoothly, entering the room before closing and locking the door behind him. She turned in her leggings and strapped top, looking young and bashful but he spared her a quick smile. He wanted a bed, despite his doodles saying otherwise, he always imagined his first time with her in her bed… soft sheets, completely bare. Not that he was going to say that to her, it was finally within his grasp and he was, after all, just a nineteen year old underneath it all.

Slowly walking around the desk he pulled off his tie, slipping out of his blazer and undoing a few buttons. Gene let out a slow breath, stopping to stand in front of her. He quickly let his eyes roam over her, smiling softy.

“What?”

“Got those ridiculous shoes off yer… like you at this height,” he brought his hand to her face, cupping her cheek in a gentle gesture.

“Why am I not surprised Gene Hunt likes having this advantage over me?”

“Don’t worry, Alex,” he stepped closer, “next time; you can keep the heels on.” She raised her eyebrows and was obviously going to correct him on that assumption so he kissed her. The night before, he wanted to take it slow… he danced with her – thank God Ray wasn’t a fly on that wall – allowing the pleasure of her body pressed against his. They didn’t have that luxury; the squad room would fill up with the remainders of the team. He moved with her, not breaking the kiss as she shifted to sit on top of the desk.

“Wish we had a bed,” she whispered as she pulled back, her hands rubbing up and down his arms. There was a little unspoken moment where they thought back again to _that_ night before his hands came cup her face again. He removed the clip from her hair, running his fingers through it in a delicate manner. She was, as usual, a little surprised by how soft he could be at times, and it must have shown because he gave her a little smile.

“It’s been a long dream of mine to ‘ave you on this desk,” he admitted, hands grasping the edge of her top and pulling it over her head.

“A certain drunk WPC told me one evening in Luigi’s,” she paused, taking off her bra and saving him the trouble, smirking as he had a predictable reaction to finally getting to see her topless, “I think the sunglasses were a bit much.”

“I don’ know, Bolly… ‘ow else would anyone understand ‘ow cool I felt… being… buried inside you,” he spoke with a reverent tone, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples.

“Thought that doodle was private,” she leant back on the desk, pushing herself into his hands, “oh, that’s good.”

“It’s gonna get better,” he told her smugly, and he moved to press his lips to her neck, moving in a calculated line, pressing kisses down her chest his hands leaning on the desk next to her. It was all about a little domination. She often had the upper hand when it came to him, they both knew it and as he nipped at the underside of her breast, before latching his lips onto her left nipple – hearing her mewl for him, it made every angry argument he had with her worth it.

“Christ, Gene…” she trailed off bringing one hand to his head, pulling slightly to move it to the right. It didn’t surprise him that she was a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t shy in letting him know. He moved one hand to smooth up her back, feeling the muscles and soft skin under his fingers. He always had a thing about her from behind – her curly hair when she first arrived into this world, bouncing as she ran… the outline of her shoulder blade as she gestured wildly. The way her arse looked in those god forsaken jeans. It almost made him wonder if she wasn’t a trick from the devil himself… the ultimate temptation, but then she’d open her mouth and he’d be brought down to the ground pretty quickly.

Except for now, it turns out an aroused Alex is every bit the malleable woman he wishes she’d be day-to-day (but would hate if she was). She moved constantly, responding to wherever his lips or hands were and he wished he had just told her what he wanted those years ago… last few seconds on earth would be spent doing exactly what they were doing at that moment. Of course it would.

He pulled back, allowing her to almost flop backwards for a moment, leaning on her elbows. At some moment, one he missed, she wrapped her legs around his waist. If he woke from this dream in the next few minutes he would go crazy – give psycho Jim a run for his money.

Tapping the sides of her thighs, “Hips up, Bolly…” he trailed his fingers across the waistband of her leggings and she complied lifting her hips and he was momentarily distracted by  the sight of her, breathing heavily, chest heaving, strong legs hold her to his waist.

“I haven’t been working on my core muscles lately, Gene… if you could hurry.”

“Not gonna apologise for bein’ a little star struck, Bolls,” he allowed her a laugh before pulling on leggings and underwear, moving backwards out where her legs held him, until she flopped unceremoniously onto the desk, huffing slightly as he made swift work pulling them off her, along with her socks.

Completely naked before him, he swore he hadn’t felt as hard as he was then since he was 16 grinding against Sarah as he fumbled to try and get his hands under her top. Spread wide on his desk, there wasn’t a doodle, a masterpiece painting that could do the image in front of him justice.

He sat in his desk chair, missing the confused look on her face, and moved to line up perfectly with her core. Tentatively he reached out, fingers trailing against the glistening folds, smirking as she jerked from the touch.

“Tempting as it is to think of fucking you quickly on my desk, I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself… if I didn’t ‘ave a taste,” giving her little time to speak, he moved her legs so her feet were on the desk, causing her to move even further onto the surface, some paperwork scattering to the floor behind her – as if he could give a shit about that. He moved his chair even closer to the desk, fingers delicately touching her folds again.

“Gene…” she begged, hips rising up. He made a quick decision, silently telling her to move her legs over his shoulders with taps to the sides of themand she listened, giggling as he pulled closer. It was a complicated system to work out… he never thought they’d experience much of anything other than arguments in his office, but when he did let himself dream… it was usually to the grand finale, never the build-up. His fingers splayed her open for him and he finally let himself lick slowly up from her entrance to her clit. “Oh, shit… stay there.” He wanted to complain, but she had a hand pressed to the back of his head, keeping him where he was, moving from licking her to sucking on her clit. “Fingers, Gene… _please_...” he never did like a bloody backseat driver, but he let himself be told what to do once. He inserted one finger inside her, groaning against her core as he felt her muscles contracting around him. He shifted his own hips in rhythm with his fingers, he was almost sure he was going to come in his trousers. “Oh you’re good… so good…” the little guidance she gave him earlier, was further from his mind as he basked in her praise.

“Mm…” he vibrated against her clit, before focussing on sucking, inserting another finger inside her, his other around moving around to pin her hips down. He could hear her gasps, even with her warm thighs pressed against his ears.

“Oh… fuck, Gene… I’m going to…” her hand left his head and he spared a glance, seeing her covering her mouth, he could feel her groans now more than he could hear them and he felt her start to shudder, moving slightly stilted as her orgasm powered through her. He languidly lapped at her, marvelling in jolts that seemed to rush through her whenever he touched her clit.

Pulling his fingers out he moved back and caught her panting, one arm thrown over her forehead, her other hand holding onto her neck.

“Any good?”

“Shut up…” she gasped out, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to move again.”

“Don’t give up yet, Mrs Fruitcake,” he moved her legs off his shoulders and stood, “still got the big finish yet, and I ain’t gonna shag you if yer gonna lie there like a ragdoll.” She let out a hearty laugh, rising up so she sat on the end of the desk, wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his jaw, the side of his mouth before kissing him deeply. The taste of her was still strong and she let out a groan.

“We might have to be quick… The new skipper was just whistling out there,” she tilted her head, “think it would be quicker with me on top.”

His eyes went wide, which was surprising considering he did have his head buried between her legs a minute before, there was just something about how practical she was. He knew she couldn’t mean he should get on his desk, but as she jumped off squeaking a little at the cold, and motioned, he shook his head – never assume to know anything when Alex Drake was involved.

“Alex…” he warned but she was already unbuttoning his shirt and removing it before he could catch up, throwing it to the sides – he was wearing a vest and she seemed to be fine with it as she moved to unbutton and unzip his trousers, gently moving them off his waist and down to his knees. She seemed a little frozen, like he was earlier, at the sight of him and her fingers brushed against his hard length, taking the moisture at his tip. He almost choked on air when she brought them to her lips, tasting him. “Shit, Alex…”

“Get on the damn desk, Gene, before I drop to my knees and we won’t get the ending we both really want,” he momentarily debated correcting her, as he knew her naked with his cock in her mouth was something he definitely wanted to explore, but he shook his head.

“Won’t take me on there, Bolly,” he contemplated, “Gonna ‘ave to be you back on there, or on my lap like a good girl, in me chair.”

He was okay with either, but she smiled and turned in his arms, leaning on her elbows on his desk. It was like the doodle… better than the bloody doodle… he almost wept.

She opened her legs wide for him, looking over her shoulder, “Are you ready, Guv?” she asked with a quirk of her lips and he growled in response, moving a hand to trail up her spine before moving back down, squeezing her arse.

“Oh, I were born ready for this, DI Drake,” he lined himself up, guiding the tip of his penis up and down her core. She pushed at him, and he didn’t bother waiting any longer, slowly pushing inside her. “Fuck me…” he groaned, eyes shutting against the feel of her. It was obscene. Risky and ridiculous considering everything falling apart but the Alex Drake that was clawing at the desk, was not the same Alex that had been withdrawn and cautious since the shooting… this was a freer Alex than he ever had the pleasure to deal with, one who finally knew she wasn’t alone.

She would have a come down, the reality of her daughter’s life continuing as hers ended would hit her at some point – he’d be there for her. At the moment he could only focus on the smooth skin of her behind, smoothing and squeezing before grasping her hips with his hands and pulling back.

“Oh god, _god_ , Gene…” Alex was mumbling her forehead hitting the desk as he pushing back inside, starting a thrusting motion which was going to ensure completion would be sooner than he would’ve preferred, “you feel…”

“Yea’… so tight, Alex…” he moaned, moving one hand to smooth up and down her back, loving the feel of her. He pushed inside and held still for a moment, using his hands to bring her back towards his chest, biting and kissing at her shoulder. The position was limited, not as comfortable as before, but he could move in shallow thrusts that were continuing to do the job for him, and he could touch the front of her. He cupped her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples as she leant her head back, turning to press her lips to his jaw.

“We have to be quiet,” she whispered, her words breathy. She bit off a moan as he moved one hand down her body, fingers working at her clit.

“Why’s that, Bolls?”

“Listen… oh god,” she whimpered quietly, he was about to reply with a cocky comment but then he heard the chatter outside the office. Complaints about the mess and ‘who the fuck did this?’ coming from a very angry Poirot. “Oh, this is wrong… kiss me, you bastard or I’m going to scream.” He turned his head; his eyebrows raised as he still his thrusts.

“Yer close, Bolls?” she shuddered, her eyes clenching shut, “oh yea’, yer close.” He moaned, bringing his lips to hers and doubling his efforts on her clit. The whole situation, the voices outside the office and the way she moved, her moans vibrating against his lips, it all served as an aphrodisiac… it was a barely a minute before she shuddered to her second orgasm. He wasted no time, gentle but firmly pushing her back down to the desk and deciding to be slightly selfish. He powered into her, working hard to make as little noise as possible.

He heard her gasp, still sensitive and he held a groan back in his throat. He needed to do this in a place where her screams could vibrate against the walls.

“Is the Guv in yet?” they heard outside the office. Gene didn’t still his thrusts, instead quickening in pace – it didn’t surprise him that the whole situation was erotic, it was a lifelong dream of his to have a bird in his office, and his missus wasn’t one for being more experimental than doing it with the lights on.

“Dunno… might be sleeping, I won’t wake him if I were you,” another voice replied. If there was enough coherent thoughts between them they’d be able to place names to voices. As it stood, Gene just drove on relentless, huffing and panting, clenching his eyes tightly shut.

“I’m gonna come, Bolls,” he warned her, “god, yer so tight…” he whispered again.

“Please, Gene…” she paused, then barely audible, “fill me…” and it was all it took, one thrust… two thrusts and he held still as he spurting inside her, one hand clenching at her hip, the other pawing at her back.

* * *

After the come down, they quickly readied their clothes, feeling exceeding naughty as they did. It was a little pleasure bubble both knew would soon pop when the office door opened but both still wanted to cling onto it.

So, Gene sat back in his office chair, Alex in his lap, smoothing her hands through his hair… allowing the voices of Bammo and Terry to wash over them outside.

“Do you think they know?”

“That we shagged?” he grinned, “if they walk in ‘ere with you on my lap again, yea’… they are detectives, Alex.”

“I mean…” she shook her head, “I mean, do you think they’re all like me out there?”

“They are.”

“And do they know?”

“No…” he brushed his nose against her cheek, “not all of ‘em come in like you and Tyler, squawking about the place… most of ‘em are a little confused but settle within a few days. ‘Cause…”

“They’re already dead,” she cuddled up closer to him, the feel of her turned desperate rather than loving and he knew that should he be lucky enough to have a few of these moments with Alex, it would happen a lot.

“We ‘ave to face the world, Bolls…” he nudged her, “gotta get my bloody team back, solve the blag and go to the pub.”

“I can’t believe the answer to everything for you lot is the pub.”

“You ‘ave no idea.”

* * *

It was done. They got their team back… in the end.  And then one by one Alex watched them disappear into the Railway Arms. Gene looked glassy eyed, witnessing his family of years leave him. Even when he wasn’t truly aware of every detail, like with Sam… it never got easier.

Nelson looked at Alex, cocked his head to the side, and she took an involuntary step closer to Gene. Whilst coming to terms with her death, leaving Molly behind was hard she couldn’t imagine finding any happiness in a place that didn’t have Gene there.

“Alex…” Gene started, she looked at him and shook her head in reply to his unspoken question.

“I want to stay, Gene…” she stepped closer to him, her hand shaking as she took hold of his coat’s lapel, “I’m not ready for that… I want my seven years.” He took hold of her hands and looked at her for a moment.

“You’ll forget her, Alex,” he told her, and she once again shook her head in denial. She believed a lot of things, but the strength of the love she had for her daughter? That overruled any otherworldly mystic powers. And if that wasn’t the case? She’d have a few years fighting crime with a man she loved, and then she’d move on. Didn’t she deserve some peace? Whatever form it came in.

“I…” the words caught in her throat, tears stinging her eyes, “I…I love you, Gene.” He raised his lips in a half smile in reply, “And I want to stay here with you. I don’t think that counts as being ready to move on do you?”

“Well… I can’t say it’s not tempting to think I could ‘ave you sitting on my face in a few hours-”

“Charming,” she interrupted with a watery laugh.

“-and I guess if yer only goin’ to throw up a shit storm of typical epic proportions, maybe… I could let you stay for a while,” he seemed defeated. His eyes looking over her shoulder, and he squinted slightly, “Don’t think they wanted you that much, anyway.”

Alex turned around to see the pub for what it was, gutted and derelict, The Kings Head… not the brightly lit one from minutes before. She faced him again, a beautiful smile transforming her face. He allowed himself that moment of selfishness. After all, Sam Tyler got what Alex wanted… a chance to get back to their world and he threw it away and managed a few years of happiness in limbo… why the hell shouldn’t they have some of that for themselves?

Gene did have one feeling of certainty, though… when Alex Drake finally did pass through the doors of the Railway Arms, he’d be right beside her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
